The Wedding Reception
by sexyhunter
Summary: Dean gets dressed up and dragged out, but ends up enjoying every minute of it...especially the part where his clothes come off. Adult content.


Author's Note: Okay, couldn't resist one more little one shot. It's my first story about a younger Dean, so hopefully it turned out okay.

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The Wedding Reception

"This is freakin bullshit!" Dean complained, a deep scowl marring his handsome features.

"Dean!" John's voice boomed across the small motel room. "Watch your mouth."

"Yes sir." The expression on the eldest Winchester son's face relaxed somewhat, but inside he was still highly agitated.

He chanced a look at his father, who was standing before the large mirror that hung above the vanity just outside the bathroom door. The older man met his gaze and held it for a moment before going back to adjusting his tie.

"Look, I know you don't like this sort of thing..." John started to say.

"Damn straight I don't!" Dean snapped, unable to bite his tongue even though he knew better than to test his father's patience.

John's eyes narrowed, once again silencing his eighteen year old son. "But Sean is an old friend of mine. He's come through for me in the past. Showing up at his wedding is the least I can do."

Dean's scowl returned and his green eyes did a bit of narrowing as well. "I understand, but I just don't get why I have to go. Sammy's sick so I should stay here with him. He shouldn't be alone."

"He won't be alone for long." John answered as he walked to the double bed where his fourteen year old son reclined. Pressing the back of his hand to Sam's forehead, the weary hunter smiled down at his youngest child. "I talked to Bobby earlier and he's on his way over."

John turned to face Dean and the smile slipped away, replaced with a stern look. His dark eyes swept over his eldest son from head to toe and though it didn't show, a deep sense of pride filled him. The boy looked good in the dark pinstriped suit, white shirt and tie. It was a shame they rarely had reason to dress up. Stepping close, he straightened Dean's tie which seemed to want to stay slightly askew, and brushed his hands over the young man's broad shoulders; shoulders that John had added a great weight to over the years. Shoulders that carried that weight with maturity and fortitude.

There was the slightest nod of John's head, a curt approval, then he moved away. Snatching up the keys to his car, he headed for the door. "Sam, be certain it's Bobby before you open this door." he said over his shoulder. "We won't be gone too long."

"Yes, sir." Sam called weakly.

"Hurry up, Dean. We can't be late." he warned, then stepped outside.

Dean grumbled out a few curse words as he went over to the bed where Sam lay, and sat down on the edge. His younger brother sprang up from beneath the pile of blankets, his hazel eyes round as he stared at the door for a moment. In a hushed tone, he said, "I'm sorry it didn't work, Dean. Think Dad knows?"

Dean shrugged as if he didn't care. "Like I give a shit?"

Sam's head bobbed up and down. "Yeah, you do. Look, I can tell him I'm feeling better. It's not fair that you still gotta go. I mean, this was _your_ idea."

"Nah. We tried. Least you get to skip this dumb ass wedding. Besides, we haven't seen Bobby in awhile and you like hanging out with him." Dean reached out and shoved his sibling back down against the pillows. "You're supposed to be sick, remember? So don't go too crazy while Bobby's here. I don't think he'd say anything to Dad, but better play it smart. Okay?"

The right side of Sam's mouth tipped up in a lopsided grin as he readily agreed. "Okay."

Returning the smile, Dean got up and slowly made his way to the door. As he reached for the handle, he heard Sam say, "Try to stay out of trouble, Dean."

Yeah, right. Like what sort of trouble could he possibly get into at a wedding? With a wave of his hand, he left the motel room, prepared for one of the most boring nights of his entire young life.

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From the grim look on his father's face, Dean knew he was in trouble but what the hell. Considering there wasn't much left, he tipped his glass up and drained the remainder of the beer he'd discreetly conned the young blond bartender into giving him. John was standing before him in a flash, ripping the glass from his son's hand and setting it down on the table none too gently.

Resting one hand on the white table cloth, the angry hunter leaned in low. "When you're 21 you can drink all the goddamned beer you want, but not until then! Now, if I see you with anything but water from here on out, I won't hesitate to drag your ass outside." He pointed a thick finger in Dean's face. "You understand me, son?"

Dean blinked up at him, his mouth set in a firm line. "Yes, sir. No more beer."

John was sure his oldest would listen, but he stared him down a minute longer just to drive his point home, then his gaze fell briefly to his watch. Knowing Dean and his penchant for trouble, they'd better leave earlier than he'd originally planned.

"We'll go in about an hour." he said. "I suggest you try meeting a few people. I saw a group of kids that looked about your age. Find them and stay out of trouble. I'll find you when it's time to go."

As soon as he was alone, Dean tugged off his tie, hating the confining feeling it gave him. Stuffing it in his coat pocket, he sank lower in the chair, propped his left ankle up on his right knee and released a deep breath, wishing some of his frustration with the dull evening would dissipate.

Scanning the room, he found the small group of teens his father had mentioned but he immediately wrote them off as a waste of his time. Not only did they look like the type who wouldn't know fun if it bit them in the ass, they probably wouldn't have one damn thing to talk about. It wasn't like he could walk up and tell them about his most recent kill, although the look on their faces would probably be entertaining enough, and he wasn't really interested in listening to them chat about who they were taking to the prom.

With that option ruled out, he continued to check out the different groups of people standing around the room and when nothing appealed to him, he focused on the tables. Some were empty, some full of what looked like more boring assholes.

And then he saw her.

Across the room, corner table, sitting all alone. She looked a little older than him, maybe somewhere in her early twenties. One slender hand was gripping a glass of wine, the other reaching back to slide her long dark hair forward so that it draped over a bare shoulder. His eyes followed the sable length to the end where it rested against an ample pair of breasts. Soft, large breasts that seemed to flow over the top of that tight, blue strapless gown she was wearing.

_Hello, gorgeous!_ It was beginning to look like the evening wasn't a total loss after all. Determined to go over and introduce himself, Dean ran through several lines he could use to grab her attention and quickly settled on a favorite. It would be nice if he had a drink to bring with him to give off the appearance that he was older. Glancing at the empty glass on the table, he contemplated grabbing another beer, but he'd promised his father that he wouldn't and a promise was a promise. He'd have to do without.

Standing up, he stripped off his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair before making his way over to the pretty woman. He knew the second she'd spotted him. Her large, dark eyes widened and the glass of wine she was about to sip from froze halfway to her full red lips.

_Oh hell yeah!_ He had her full attention.

Stopping beside her table, Dean grinned down at her, raking a hand through his short brown hair. Her sable eyes lifted to follow the subtle action and he felt a spark of electricity zapping through him, a spark that intensified when her gaze dropped to meet his. Her lids were half closed, giving her this dreamy, sultry look that had him imagining her naked and stretched out beneath him. That thought had his pants hugging his crotch tightly. Could his cock get any harder? He was willing to find out.

His mouth began to open, the line he'd planned to use ready to roll out, when she winked up at him and ran the pink tip of her sleek little tongue over her lower lip, leaving it glistening and damp.

"Aren't you a handsome one." she said. "Please, _please_ tell me you're here to drag me away from all of this so you can do deliciously wicked things to me with that sinful mouth of yours." Her voice was like silk sliding over his skin. Combined with her words, it was enough to answer his question. He could most definitely get harder. His cock had turned to pure granite.

The rest of his body was considerably active, too. His belly had grown taut, his heart was pounding out a wild rhythm against the wall of his chest and a thin layer of perspiration was forming over every inch of him. The only thing he allowed this beauty to see, however, was his lips curving up into a slow decadent smile.

Where her voice was soft, his was gruff with escalating passion. "Sweetheart, that's exactly what I'm here to do."

Seems he wasn't the only one affected. Her body trembled, her breasts quivering just enough to momentarily draw his gaze downward. Then she said, "I don't know if I'll have to look toward heaven or hell when I offer thanks for you later, but to be honest, I really don't care."

Setting her wine glass down on the table, she offered him her hand which he quickly enfolded in his own. Her skin was warm, smooth, soft. He couldn't wait to feel more of it. And he couldn't wait to taste all of it. When she stood, he saw that she was tall, the top of her head reaching his cheek. A quick glance down showed him it was with the help of some very, very high heels.

With an image of sliding her dress off, leaving her standing before him with nothing but panties and those very very high heels, Dean strode purposefully toward the double doors that led to the hotel lobby. He wasn't sure where they could go, some secluded corner somewhere maybe. It didn't matter. He just needed to find some out of the way place before his body exploded from the intense pressure building inside of him. A pressure he knew would only be relieved when he was slamming into her tight perfect body.

He didn't look left or right, simply straight ahead, green eyes burning as he maneuvered them through the wedding guests and out into the large open area. Before he could determine which way to go, he felt a tug on his hand and stopped to look at his adventurous playmate.

She was smiling, a room key dangling between her fingers. "Room's one floor up, stairs are on the right."

Beautiful and prepared. It didn't get any better than that. Okay, well actually it was about to get a hell of a lot better! Dean grinned and let her lead the way.

Their pace was fast, both of them eager to get to the room. Once inside, she pushed him toward the large bed as the door swung shut behind them. "What's your name, gorgeous?" she whispered against his lips.

The back of his knees bumped the edge of the bed. "Dean. Yours?" His hands went to her waist, then slid behind her, inching upward until his fingertips touched bare skin.

"Sasha." Her teeth snagged his lower lip and tugged, then her tongue traced its fullness in a dewy path that ended as it delved inside.

His tongue caught hers, the dance light and easy at first, but quickly increasing in tempo as their hands began to stroke each other's bodies. As good as that felt through the clothes, Dean wanted her naked. She must have been thinking the same thing because he felt her working the buttons of his shirt. His breathing grew heavy with anticipation. Letting his fingertips brush back and forth between her shoulder blades, he tried to force himself to slow up a little, to savor her lush skin as he smoothed over it, but his patience didn't last long. Finding the cool metal of her zipper, he hurriedly slid it open.

"Dean, you are pure temptation." she whispered alluringly, jerking the dress shirt from his broad shoulders and tossing it aside. Her mouth clamped over his hot skin, biting into it roughly, then drawing it in as she sucked deeply. "Mmmm. Tasty. So damn sweet." Her tongue flicked out for more proof and she sighed. "Oh yes, so so sweet!"

Dean had to know how she tasted, too. He forced her back just a bit, letting her dress fall away to pool at her feet. She was standing there looking like she had in his earlier fantasy - wearing nothing but panties and heels. He sucked in a breath; her body was even better than he'd pictured. Full, large breasts, flat tummy and the longest friggin' legs! He might be young, but he'd already enjoyed a nice variety of females and he would definitely say this was one of the hottest bodies he'd ever had.

"Jesus!" he mumbled. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing and rubbing over them, then his thumbs teased the hard, darkened nipples. Dying for that taste, he lowered his head and pulled a tip into his mouth, laving and sucking until she cried out.

Her arms wound around him, her fingers slipping up to clutch in his hair as she arced her back. "I want you, Dean. Feel how much. Touch me, baby." She reached down and placed his hand between her legs, sliding his lithe fingers back and forth over the damp wisp of silk she wore. Her hips picked up the cadence, rocking sensuously to the rousing pace she'd set.

Feeling how wet and ready she was bit into Dean's already meager self-control. He wanted this woman and he wasn't sure how much longer he could wait. His body was burning up and his cock was pounding and throbbing unmercifully. Releasing her breast, his mouth took hers once again with raw, savage kisses; his tongue thrusting deeply. He shoved her panties aside and pressed his fingers to her heat, loving the way she moaned into his mouth as he touched her. A few slides along her slick folds and then he was plunging up inside of her. And she was squeezing around him so tightly he knew she was ready to come for him.

When his long fingers began to work her, gliding in and out with quick, sure pumps, she trembled. When his mouth and tongue began to stroke and caress her throat, she shuddered. And when his thumb began to circle and flick over her clit, she unraveled in his arms.

As the rapturous pulsations slowed and Sasha started to ease down from the most incredible high, she purred, "My God! I don't think I've ever come so hard or so fast."

She kissed him hungrily, wanting more. More of his body. More of him pleasuring her. And she also wanted the chance to pleasure him. Slipping out of her panties, but leaving on the heels, she went to work on removing the rest of Dean's clothes. She tugged at his pants and briefs, maneuvering them over his slender hips until they fell away, allowing her a view that was nothing less than heaven on earth.

With an iniquitous smile, Sasha ran the pads of her fingertips up and down his rather imposing member, enjoying the unique combination of rigid strength and implausible silkiness that was purely male. Dean groaned, a low sex-induced growl that triggered off pulses of heat between her thighs and had her anxious to feel him inside of her, pounding hard and deep. But it wasn't quite time. This was his moment and she wanted it to be one this beautiful sexy man remembered for a very long time.

Sasha continued to stroke him while her other hand fell upon his chest, gliding down over the unyielding planes and then lower to the chiseled-to-perfection abs. Beneath her touch that regal body trembled, filling her with an unequaled sense of power as she pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him.

Her eyes caressed him, brushing over every detail of his Adonis-like features, committing them to memory for she knew no other man would ever compare to this one. He was beauty, strength and passion all rolled into one glorious gift from above.

Leaning over him, Sasha used her lips and tongue to taste, tease and bewitch her sexual captive. As she stealthily worked her way down his powerful body, she could hear Dean panting breathlessly. And when she eased between his legs, the tip of her tongue flicking out to trace a wet path over his steely shaft, she saw his large hands grope and clutch desperately at the bed sheets.

Knowing she had this prime male helpless within her grasp, Sasha worked that beautiful cock with her mouth, using tongue, lips and teeth until Dean let out a roar, his hands twisting into her long hair and tugging sharply.

He sat up and urged her to straddle him, guiding himself into her as she wrapped her long legs around his waist. Buried deep inside of her at last, Dean's body shook with unrelenting need. He felt her arms drape over his shoulders, then her mouth sought his, her voracious kisses pushing him past the point of sanity.

Gripping her waist, Dean rolled, pinning her beneath him. His need for release was beyond restraint. His hips lifted until he was nearly all the way out of her and she moaned at the separation, but then he drove down hard, slamming deeply into her. She cried out, her nails sinking into his skin and he'd thought he'd hurt her, yet her heels were digging in, as if trying to pull him even closer.

He lifted his head, wondering if he should try to gain some control, wondering if that was even possible, when he heard her say, "Don't stop now, Dean. Please!"

The final thread snapped and he was free to find that sweet release. Pumping into her again and again, each thrust as hard and as deep as possible, Dean chased after that single glorious moment when he was soaring high above all the darkness that was his life. His body ached, a fire scorching him from the inside as he climbed ever upward.

Beneath him, Sasha's body arched as she cried his name. Her muscles clamped around him, squeezing and releasing until he felt the pressure within him burst. The orgasm ripped through him, shaking him violently as he surrendered to it.

Spent, Dean's arms collapsed beneath him as he sprawled out on top of his lover. She didn't seem to mind, her hands simply stroking lightly over his back. Their chests heaved, somehow finding a matching rhythm while their pulses continued to drift slowly downward.

Several minutes passed before reality began to set in. With a sigh, Dean rolled off of Sasha, knowing it was time to head back downstairs where his father and his life as a hunter awaited.

"Time to go, lover boy?" she asked quietly, her fingertips caressing the smooth hot skin of his chest.

"Yeah." He faced her, a licentious grin playing upon those sumptuous lips. "Thanks."

"No, thank you." She kissed him, a long slow deep kiss that she hoped would linger in his mind for awhile.

As Dean rolled out of bed and began to dress, Sasha did the same, but before she could slip on her panties, he stopped her. "You mind?" he asked, pointing toward the delicate item.

Thrilled that he wanted a memento, she draped them over his finger. "Here you go." She paused, then said, "I already know the answer, but I have to ask. You're not from around here, are you?"

"Nah. Not from anywhere really." he offered. "We move around a lot."

With her dress in place, she stepped closer and gave him her back. "Would you zip me?" As he slid the zipper up, she couldn't resist putting the offer out there, even though she knew she'd never again see this amazing man. "If you ever happen to come back around, I'll be here."

Dean spun her around, his green eyes alight as he looked down at her. He'd never see her again, but he said the words he knew she'd want to hear. "I ever come back around, I'll find you."

With a final kiss, Dean took her hand and led her back down to the reception. Though looking slightly mussed and extremely satisfied from their sexual encounter, nobody seemed to notice. As they headed for her table, Dean spotted his father coming toward him.

"Oh well, guess we're leaving." Dean said, amazed at his timing. He squeezed her hand tightly before letting go. "See ya around, Sasha."

"Bye, Dean." With a wink, she turned and walked away.

John approached his son, fully aware of the tall brunette who had just slipped away. He shook his head and shoved the boy's coat toward him.

"I thought I told you to stay out of trouble?" he said gruffly.

"Yes, sir. And I did." Dean slipped on the coat before burying his hands in his pants pockets. A grin split his face as he touched the soft silk of Sasha's panties, their encounter flashing briefly through his mind.

Noting the smile, John sighed and glanced over at the girl once more. "Yeah, right. Let's go check on your brother. Something tells me he's had a miraculous recovery from his 'illness'." he said, herding Dean toward the door.

Dean's eyebrows shot up as he realized his father really had been aware of their little ploy. Ah well, it all turned out for the best in the end. His dad went to the wedding, Sammy got to spend some time with Bobby and he realized that sometimes it was actually worth putting on all those damned fancy clothes.

The End


End file.
